Hearts Unfold
by Marie Meyers
Summary: With Francis away at college, there is nothing stopping Mary Stuart from falling in love with the Head of French Royal Security and her personal body guard, Sebastian Poitiers-Valois. But with her approaching wedding day, Francis' return, and a terrorist plot on France, will the newfound love the Queen and first prince have found triumph, or will it be broken apart? Modern Day AU.
1. chapter 1

Hearts Unfold, a Reign fan fic

Written by xXxFate and Marie Meyers, based on Reign roleplay by xXxFate and Marie Meyers

Compiled and edited by Marie Meyers

Summary: With Francis away at college, there is nothing stopping Mary Stuart and Sebastian Poitiers-Valois, the Head of French Royal Security and her personal body guard, from falling for one another. But with her approaching wedding day, Francis' return, and a terrorist plot on France, will the newfound love the Queen and first prince have found triumph, or will it be broken apart? Modern Day. AU. Maybe OOC.

Characters: Mary (xXxFate), Bash (Marie Meyers)

In Progress

Disclaimer/Letter From the Author: Hey, guys! I'm back! So this is a modern day story about a kick ass Bash and an equally dope Mary. Tons of gun fights and tons of steamy kisses, and I'm super excited to bring this to you. This is actually a role play xXxFate and I did in a Reign forum here on . We decided to adapt it into a story, and here we are. I hope you like it, and I hope you all enjoy my modern day Bash. Note that we do not own Reign or its characters, but please be mindful and ask us before any reuse of any part of this fanfiction.

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Chapter One

Bash wiped his sweaty palms on his pants leg, took a steadying breath and raised a fisted hand to the large door. He stopped just before knocking. He already knocked. Yet, he hadn't seen her anywhere on the castle grounds so maybe she just didn't hear him. She was a queen, so no way she was sleeping at this hour. Or was she? No, perhaps she didn't hear him. Perhaps he should knock again - no, perhaps not.

Bash let out a frustrated breath and swore quietly to himself. Why was it so nerve-racking to ask someone out on a date? Or was it so hard because it was Mary whose attentions he was seeking?

Mary made her way to the door, opening it and pausing when she saw Bash standing there. "Bash, is something the matter?" She asked, taking a step aside should he wish to enter her room. She tilted her head to the side, curious as to why he seemed so...nervous, was it? She placed her arms in front of her, neatly folding her hands before her as she waited to see what was going on. She had heard the knocking, but been occupied at the moment.

"I apologize for taking so long to answer, I was writing a letter." She clarified to him, letting him know she hadn't been ignoring him.

"Don't worry, it's fine." He smiled slightly, but with his nerves it faded quickly. He watched her step aside to let him enter - he eyed what he saw of Mary's room but decided against it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been in her room, but - he was asking her on a date, man - entering didn't feel appropriate.

He licked his suddenly dry lips. He should just go for it. Just ask. _What are you doing Saturday? Let's grab a bite to eat and see a movie._ It sounded so simple in his head. And really, sure, she could not be interested and she probably wasn't interested but they were somewhat amiable with one another so maybe she wouldn't say no and he could finally stand on equal footing with her and maybe even _get her interested..._

He opened his mouth. After three seconds he closed it, then opened it again. He let out a nervous chuckle. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice wasn't coming out. He wasn't speaking. His voice box was broken, the words teetering on his tongue and refusing to stumble out. He swallowed. Fuck, why did he swallow? The words, man, the words - swallowed with the lump in his throat, his throat so dry now that it'd be impossible to get them back, and - she wearing the black and white blouse her mother sent last Christmas? Was it just him or did it accentuate her curves rather nicely? - the fuck was he thinking _now_ and at a time like _this_? He had zero point three seconds to get his shit together.

"Your Grace," he cleared his throat a bit. "How are you feeling?"

Mission accomplished, he spoke. But, come on, man - _how are you feeling?_ That was definitely not what he rehearsed.

Mary found a hand rising to cover her mouth, a soft chuckle escaping past her lips as she saw the evidence of nerves written all about him. "Bash, I'm feeling fine. Are you feeling alright? You seem nervous." She said, noting how he didn't enter, or make to enter her room. But he had come in before, was there something keeping him from coming in this time? She shook her head, unsure of what to think of this presently.

She found herself lowering her hand to her side, tilting her head as she looked at him again. Something was definitely off about him, and she suddenly wondered if she was the cause of his nervousness at present. "Bash, why don't you come in and sit down? You look like you could use it." She said, reaching out and placing a soft hand upon his shoulder.

Sure things were good between the two of them, and yet she suddenly wondered if something had occured to make him lose his speech for that moment in time, and if there was something seriously bothering him. She shook the thought away, her eyes drifting to his lips and stopping there for a moment. She blinked, _Not now, Mary, you must be the queen your mother expects you to be. Not proper behavior for a woman in your standing._ She shook the thoughts away and focused her gaze upon his eyes once more.

"Please, I insist you come in and have a seat."

Bash was wearing his standard - black T shirt that cut at his biceps. Black slacks. He called it his formal attire, as he wore it only when within the castle grounds and only when he was on duty.

It occured to him suddenly that if he we're trying to ask the young queen out on a date, perhaps he should have worn something that didn't remind them both that he was her security detail (guardian and knight sounded _way_ too sixteenth century); however, he quickly dismissed the thought when he suddenly felt the heat of her palm premeditating through his shirt sleeve. As if instinct, he felt the muscles in his upper arm tense and - dare he say it - flex beneath her hand. Some sort of second hand nature imprinted into his male testosterone, he was sure. He kept a straight face and flattened his lips to a thin line and hoped to God Mary hadn't noticed.

"I'm fine," he said smoothly, and almost said out loud the victory cry that resounded in his head when his voice didn't waver. Or change pitch. "I..." He forgot the words had escaped him already. "The King told me that you passed those school try outs you were telling me about. Congratulations."

Mary felt herself smile, having felt the flexing of his muscles beneath her hand. "Well, if you're so fine, then why don't we go someplace else?" She asked, looking towards the small bag upon her desk that she carried when she went places. She blinked some, hearing what he said about her try outs, and nodded her head.

"Thank you, it wasn't what I thought it would be." She said, lowering her arm down to her side as she smiled a bit. She wasn't sure what it was that was going on, but she could tell that through his flexing he had seemed somewhat excited about it. She kept the smile in place though, knowing that things weren't that bad between the two of them.

She moved towards her desk, picking up her bag and throwing it over her shoulder as she slid her feet into the small ballet flats next to her desk. She grabbed her long coat, throwing it over her shoulders as she walked back over to him. "So, shall we?" She asked him, offering that sweet smile towards him.

Bash blinked twice, then nodded. "Of course. Let me get my coat." He stepped away from her door, and turned without a word, heading down the steps and turning a corner towards his own room. Never mind the irregular beats of his heart or buzz in his nerve endings by the smile she'd given him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Damn it. It was poor timing, attempting to ask her out when she was wanting to run errands. Or maybe the poor timing was the fact that he froze up and emptied his damn head.

At least he was going to be able to spend a few hours in her company and away from prying eyes. Maybe he would still have a chance this way. But, man, how unprofessional was it to mix business with pleasure?

If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his professionalism. The fact that at twenty two - freshly turned, if he may say - he was head of the security detail for King Henry - not omitting the fact that this title had been given to him when he was nineteen - and also the guardian - no, security detail - of the queen of Scotland, spoke volumes. Modesty be damned, Bash thought he did one hell of a job. And a good majority of that was due to his professionalism. It was a trait given (for better or for worse) directly from the king himself.

But, to mix business and pleasure with _Mary?_ \- Bash didn't think he'd dislike that one bit.

Man, sometimes being the very best at what you did, really blowed.

He laced up, attaching his gun holster to the straps of his suspenders, and attached one hunting knife, then one utility. On his utility belt he placed a second gun, and placed a stun gun and can of mace in their prospective holders (he'd give them to Mary as an extra precautionary measure, just in case the need may arise). He grabbed his long coat, black and suede, with what felt like (to him) a hundred buttons and with an added tying belt around the waist, his black leather gloves (a trademark), and finished the ensemble by wrapping his grey and black, two toned acrylic scarf around his neck. He grabbed his car keys off his desk as he left his room, and with long, purposeful strides met Mary quickly near the foyer.

His eyes quickly took her in - from the warm glow on her porcelain skin and ebony hair, to the small frame of her body which beheld gentle, feminine curves now hidden by her coat.

He straightened his back and regarded her respectfully, "Are you ready, Your Grace?"

Mary looked at him; was it just the way the lighting hit that scarf of his, or was there more to him than what she saw? She shook her head, nodding once as she looked him over yet again. "Yes, I'm ready." She said softly, politely in the mannerisms of a queen. Her jeans were a dark navy colored and went well with the black and white blouse her mother had sent, upon her head, looking almost neatly like a crown of roses was the black and silver plated tiara she wore amidst her curls.

She adjusted the coat she wore, that stopped just below her knees and was a rick dark velvet type fabric, before looking towards him once more. Should she dare tell him there were no errands to run? Or perhaps they could run one errand amidst the day?

Was it wise for her to do such a thing? Given the standings she was in, here in France? She didn't want to think about that now, so she smiled once more.

She tentatively placed a hand upon his arm, nodding as she started to walk outside to where his car was parked. So much seemed to have happened from the moment he walked to her room, and yet here she was hoping that this false errand day wouldn't give her away.

His eyes flickered briefly to her hand on his arm. Was it just his wishful thinking, or was she really touching on him more often than what she usually did? Not that they'd never touched each other before, and there were occasions in which she did regard him like that and at times more often than not, but - didn't she have errands? And he was her security detail. Despite how long they'd known each other, it didn't settle right with him to be regarded by her with such friendly familiarity - though Bash truly did long for it. Had it not been for the fact that he had met Mary when he was sixteen, before having her placed in his care, before...everything, he'd have even gone so far as to have insisted she call him not Bash, but Sebastian instead.

Now, though, he was glad she didn't - he was certain his full name on Mary's lips would prove to be absolutely sinful.

Furthermore, her hand had been on his arm for at least twenty seconds already, and he'd yet to remove it. Was it because he was planning on finally asking her out today? The reminder suddenly made him nervous again and he felt himself tense as his mind began stammering, stuttering, and short circuiting. Man, come on, he definitely didn't feel the heat of her hand through his warm as shit suede coat. Fuck, was he really this aware of her? Would he be able to do his job properly like this? Should he ask her out now -

 _Stop it. Focus. Don't tense. You've got a job to do. Don't let irrelevant things get under your skin._

His head cleared, and the tension in his body rolled away as if it had never even been there. He reached a glove hand out to place over her own and remove her scorching touch - but found that he couldn't do it so soon. It hovered above her own, until they reached the black Nissan Altima. He stepped out of her hold wordlessly, gently removing her hand from his arm and holding on to it a fraction longer than necessary. He went to the back passenger door and opened it for her - it went against code for her to sit beside him up front during an assignment - and waited.

Mary watched as he opened the back passenger door, a small frown crossing her features. "Do you think, perhaps, I could sit up front...with you?" She asked, standing there and waiting for his response, as she folded her arms in front of her. While she knew that he assumed this was his normal guard detail, she had felt different about getting out today. She watched him, the small frown still evident upon her face as she tilted her head, a few curls of hair falling over her shoulder ever so slightly.

One hand moved to start closing the door, as she waited to see how he would react to it all. She didn't feel like sitting in the back today, not much of that at least. And she hadn't even told him the reason for their adventure out today.

Her body had been acutely aware of his in that instant, and she found the flush forming upon her cheeks almost instantly. Slowly she turned her gaze away, waiting to see if he would object to her sitting in the front with him. She wanted a few moments to compose herself, and suddenly found herself wishing they were away from the grounds already. She felt the need for space from her duties quite heavily right now, and spending time with him was more than a perfect distraction. _Come on now, he isn't a mere distraction. Admit it to yourself, Mary...there is more in this trip than even you know._ She shook the thought from her mind, lifting her gaze to look back up at him once more.

Bash watched silently as she stepped into him. He felt the door sliding in his hand as the young Queen tried to shut it. Applying only the slightest bit of pressure, he resisted against her motions, always no nonsense.

He could feel the heat of her skin as her hand rested so near his own. Their skin touched barely; a small contact of her finger tips against his palm, but to Bash it were as if his whole entire being was made warm.

Originally, it was his plan to refute her, but the sudden heat in her cheeks - almost not perceptible (but he had very well trained eyes) - gave him pause. He watched Mary look away from him a moment, and then at the way her lashes fluttered and her gaze returned to his own.

It was a curious thing, the way she was staring at him. He would never admit it, even to himself, but in that moment, his guard left him completely, and man - what had they been talking about?

Bash found himself lazily roaming over her facial features - his eyes flickered up to the crown in her hair, then slid down her ebony curls before gliding back to her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and her nose. His eyes settled to her lips and lingered, snapping to her eyes again before alternating between the two delicate features.

Even gazing at her, he knew that she was a perfect fit for him. How easy it would be to reach out and cup her face fully between the palms of his hands, then capture her lips with his own. Her body was molded to fit his, intended to be encompassed entirely by his own being. Bash felt so certain, and yet...

Still, man. She was beautiful.

 _And anxious_ , Bash realized as he inspected her more closely. He forced him face to remain impassive and fought his urge to frown. He scrunched his brows together as he scrutinized her. She seemed anxious about something, and though he didn't know what it was, it most certainly explained the way she'd been reacting around him.

Though he were on duty, though there were codes, he really wouldn't refute her in her troubled state. Even if having her sit beside him only made things harder on him. Still, he'd stay resolute, only willing to relent should she not.

"That's not standard protocol, Your Grace," he told her softly.

Mary shook her head, looking into his eyes directly. "I want to sit in the front." She said, using his full name as she moved to attempt and close the door once more. She didn't want him to treat her like a duty right now; she wanted him to see her as an equal in the present moment.

She added a bit more pressure to the door, slipping her hand on top of his as she looked at him. "Sebastian, I insist upon it." She never used his full name that often, and for some reason she was even more aware of him the moment she did, her flush reddening even more. It was as if everything was heightened at the moment, and right now she wondered what it would feel like to have his arms around her. Would his embrace be warm? Would he let her go if she tried to move away, not that she would though. She felt everything as if it were heating up more and more. She wanted to ride in the front - be as close to him as possible.

But no, he seemed so stuck on duty and protocol, and she knew that things would either go her way or his own, and she hoped that it would be her way they went. However, the fact that he was so dedicated to her safety, that spoke volumes to her, and she found it a very attractive quality in him.

Bash was right. His name sounded so sinfully right when she said it.

He was growing warm, the stubborn streak he found so infuriating and endearing at the same time, rearing its head, and despite his already made up mind to allow her to sit in the front, there was a darker part of his mind that wanted to take her challenge; would she still resist if he did everything he's been longing to do since they started this tug of war?

Her hand was on his, and Bash swallowed hard. She was - touching him way more than needed, way more than what was comfortable. Way more than what was necessary to establish friendly familiarity and the unspoken hypothetical could never be so wrong. There was no way that she, for him. He could list ten reasons. He would only need one.

These revelations didn't stop his eyes from following the dark color of her cheeks, or prevent his eyes from darkening in desire - or anger, one could only know; he prayed she thought the latter.

Like he knew, there was only one reason he needed, a reason he would regret saying out loud but knew he needed to hear.

"For someone intended to be wed after graduation, you're very comfortable sharing the heat of your skin with those not meant to be your husband."

But his hand fell away from the door in concession, hers falling with his until he pulled his own to his side. He turned and went to the driver's side, trying to control his feelings, and a little irate that she could stir him up so terribly and so innocently.

He regretted how the words were said, as soon as he said them. Yet, he needed to establish control in their situation, lest he make more enemies than he really cared to, and did something he knew she wouldn't forgive him for, and as of that moment - he had no control at all.

He was crossing boundaries - outside of his own mind, and right now, as her security, that was a great error. A liability. A threat. Her standing so near him, the greatest threat to her safety was himself.

He'd properly apologize when they were both seated. She also needed to realize how misleading her actions could be. He unlocked the door and slid effortlessly in his seat, then waited for her to slide in the passenger door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The words he said were harsh, and somewhat bit into her as she opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. She pulled the seatbelt on, buckling it as she stared out the windshield trying to regain her own composure.

"You're right, in a sense...but the words didn't need to be so harsh." She said simply, trying to bite back any sadness within her tone.

Mary composed herself, knowing her own voice gave way to the sadness that his words had given her. There was no way he would have thought of her in such a manner, secretly she had hoped but now she knew better. She kept her eyes on the windshield, knowing she hadn't told him where she wished to go. Did that even matter anymore? She folded her hands neatly in her lap, doing her best to find something to say to him.

It was a strange sensation coursing through her, while she was betrothed to Francis, she couldn't shake the feelings that stirred within her whenever Bash was near, whenever her flesh touched his for whatever small amount of time it was.

Sinful and stolen moments; would that be all she was able to get?

She wouldn't regret what she was about to say next. She couldn't regret the way she felt, nor would she. Not at a time like this. She could call off her engagement, it was her choice, and though she knew her mother would oppose to such a thing, she couldn't shake the feelings she had. Now was the time to let him know, and perhaps he would finally see her as a woman once her feelings were expressed to him.

Sebastian de Poitiers: Mary liked him.

"About my engagement to Francis...well, one can't help how they feel." She started out, keeping her gaze focused on the windshield in front of her. Her hands gripped at the fabric of her coat so tight that her knuckles were going white, the tendons and muscles visible through the flesh of her hands.

She took a steadying breath, feeling her cheeks heat up yet again despite the words of harshness he had spoken to her, "I know that telling you this may forever impact the way things are...but I can't hide it any longer." She paused, only to catch her breath as she felt her heart racing in her chest. "I feel something for you, something that I don't know if its wrong...or if it could start something between us that could make things a thousand times different." She explained, keeping her gaze out the windshield as she stopped for now, not sure what else she could possibly say.

Bash, who had moved to start the engine, paused in his ministrations, as still as the beat of his heart. He possibly heard wrong, but it sounded as if Mary confessed feelings of attraction towards him. He probably heard wrong, implementing wishful thinking that couldn't possibly be realized. But the more she rambled, the more alarmed he became. Quite frankly, he couldn't quite grasp what she was saying. It was as if in the moment that she finished, his brain short circuited completely.

He didn't look at her, couldn't look at her. His mind was replaying all she said, but it had yet to formulate anything concrete. He was certain that his mind had never processed anything so slow before. He wasn't sure what to say or do. His body was tense, his nerve endings lit with fire.

So he focused on what he knew he could in that moment: his job. Trying carefully to reconstruct his mask of professionalism, he forced his hand to move as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Where am I taking you, Your Grace?" He placed both hands on the steering wheel - and gripped the life out of it. His jaw worked as he stared ahead, desperately trying to sort out exactly what was happening.

Mary had never been so confused in her life, perhaps she had worded it all wrong. Perhaps she should just leave the car and run back to her room to sulk about it all? She shook her head, her knuckles still gripped so tight they were white.

"The mall..." She said simply, hiding any tone of sadness or hurt from her voice. She had thought she had confessed it properly, but perhaps she had been lacking in her skills of it.

Maybe he rejected her?

Part of her wanted to scream at him, tell him that she meant every word of it. But then again, it wasn't her place to yell at him for not obliging her words or feelings. She shook the thoughts away, doing her best to try not to cry. She didn't know what to think about it, and she wasn't sure if he was just trying to figure it out on his own. She hoped that soon enough he would find the words to say, perhaps even acknowledge it back.

Her body was tense in the seat, knuckles still white and rigid as they gripped her coat and left wrinkles in it. She didn't know how long she could keep her own emotions in check, or if she would fail to keep them in check at all. She turned her head to the passenger side window, letting her hair fall into her face and shield it from his view as she felt the singular tear roll down her cheek.

 _Foolish._ That was the only thought now running through her mind.

He pulled out of the castle courtyard wordlessly, determined on his destination, grateful for his distraction. It was a half hour to the mall, not including traffic. He wondered if they would spend that time in silence; it wouldn't be unusual if they did.

She had thrown caution to the wind. Obligation out the window. She was being ballsy, and the most important question was: why towards him? Why now?

And an even more important question - _did she mean it?_

If he thought about it systematically, her behaviour that day fit well with the words she was speaking. She had been touching him a lot more than usual; but that happened with her from time to time. They'd known each other for nearly three years before he had became the head of security for the castle, and it wasn't until a full five months later that she had been assigned to him, and he to her. She had once even expressed that she missed the friendship they'd once shared. Of course, he told her that they weren't children anymore. Aside from the occasional slip, she had never tried to cross the boundary he'd drawn.

Had something happened behind closed doors that he wasn't privy to? Something within the last twenty four hours? The last seventy two? Did she not feel safe? Was she shaken up by some unknown threat, or...

The month. Of course. Time had flew by so quickly that he had completely forgotten the signifigance. For Mary, who had never expressed a deep interest to sever that professional bond between them, the only explanation for her confession that he could give was the fact that it was November - November twentieth if he were being exact. In just three days, it would have been the second year anniversary since Francis had gone off to study college in the United Kingdom somewhere. It wasn't uncommon for Mary to be a little out of sorts during this time.

She was also a woman. Her loneliness and need for Francis may have been projected on to him, the one that had been closest to her since he left. Rather than feeling used or upset by the logic, it was sobering. It was a cold shower on his body, mind, and heart, stripping away his feelings from the equation and leaving him feeling a little like an asshole. Of course, it was also disheartening. But mainly, it showed him that she was vulnerable, and could be, in front of him. More than disappointment, he took a smidget of twisted, masochistic pride in that.

At a red light, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Seeing her hiding beneath a veil of her hair, he said: "I was harsh earlier. I'm sorry."

She shook her head, her knuckles still gripping onto her coat as she heard his words. "You needn't worry about it, forget what I've said as well." She said in a monotone voice, all hint of any emotion void from her speech. She had known the risk, had put herself out there and there it was rejected almost instantly through his silence.

Another tear, damn these emotions of hers going unchecked. _Calm yourself, Mary._ She thought, not daring to raise a hand to wipe the glistening tears away, lest he find out she was in fact crying.

Everything had happened almost suddenly, with Francis being gone, and her spending so much time with Bash, it was obvious why she had fallen for him. She wasn't sure why, but she was feeling so strongly about him, and to be rejected was enough to send her into emotional turmoil over the whole thing. She wouldn't let him see her cry though, despite a small vindictive side of her that did in fact want him to know.

With her knuckles slowly relaxing, she kept her head turned away from him as she felt another traitorous tear slip down her cheek and fall onto her lap. It would stain her coat, she knew that, and yet she couldn't stop it. She knew more would come.

Feeling both of her cheeks becoming moist with her tears, she knew the choking sounds of the sobs would eventually come. "How much further?" She asked almost desperately, praying that her voice didn't sound as strained as she imagined it did.

Then it came - the small hiccup that always accompanied her tears. Greer, Lola, Kenna, and Aylee had known this sound all too well lately, and she feared now Bash would as well. She didn't hesitate then, bringing a hand to her face hidden behind the veil of her hair and rubbing furiously at the tears that seemed to come more frequently now.

Damn these tears, it was foolish to think of it anyways.

Another betraying thought coursing through her mind as she continued to rub at her face to dry the tears from her cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Don't." Bash resumed his drive, reaching one hand out and towards her face. He didn't hesitate to wipe her left cheek, sliding his fingers through her hair to tuck a lock behind her ear. "I don't mind this. I'm his brother. It makes sense you'd react like this, given the fact that I've been with you in his stead. I don't mind you crying like this. I'm not just hear to protect you from physical danger, I'm supposed to take care of your heart, too. Until he returns to you."

Mary shook her head, feeling his hand run through her hair for a moment. "Take care of my heart? Well it would make sense...given how I know how I feel now." She said, turning her head so that she could look at him. The tear stains evident upon her cheeks, and the fact that her mascara had run down upon her cheeks as well.

"I can't lie about how I feel anymore Bash...I think I've known for quite some time now. That I don't love Francis..." She ended it there, dropping her gaze to her lap as her hands went back to clutching at her coat tightly.

His eyes widened as he saw her disheveled appearance. He tapped a small black button on his door to automatically open his glove compartment on Mary's side. He told her to take the tissues, making a right turn and then a left one as he took the entry ramp for the expressway.

Bash, his heart loud in his ears, said: "You know that isn't true. Look at the way he's made you cry."

He supposed any intelligent man would not tell the woman he had feelings for that she still loved someone else, he was sure a man in his position would have jumped at the chance to claim the girl; queue Kirk Gibson's walk off home run in the 1988 World Series - and fist pump. But even though Bash wanted Mary's words to be the truth more than anything, she held dreams of walking off into the sunset with his younger brother, Francis, and while wearing a beautiful white dress; if her dreams were that large Bash knew he wouldn't want them any other way.

However, her troubled expression made him wonder even further. Was she acting that way then, because she's been so lonely without him that she became afraid of her feelings? Did she worry that he, as Francis' brother, would be put off by her confusion?

Not likely. "Even if that were the case, I'd still fufill my duties and guard you; your worries only mean you're human, Mary."

She reached for the tissues and dabbed at her face, then leaned back in the seat, turning her gaze back out the window on her side of the vehicle. This wasn't going as she had hoped, he was all but physically throwing her in Francis' direction, something she did not want.

Her body shifted in the seat, her face clear and cleansed of any residue mascara that had dared venture onto her cheeks. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy from her crying, but absolution showed in her gaze. One thing that was obvious to her, was that she wouldn't stop feeling this way about him. "How can I go into a marriage with Francis, when my heart lies with someone else...with you..." She said lightly, shaking her head as she closed her eyes and pinched just below her eyes so that she could attempt to solve the puffy bit about her eyes. Her chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. She wondered if she asked him to stop the car if he would. "Will you...stop the car at the next exit?"

Even though Bash knew she was simply projecting her feelings for Francis onto him, it was hard to get his heart to slow or for the loud buzzing in his ears to lessen. He gripped the steering wheel, pointedly not saying anything as he drove passed the next exit and instead turned at the one after - he knew there was a rest stop nearby and he could easily reach the mall from where they were by taking the streets instead.

The truck stop was located conviently off the exit ramp, and he turned into the lot. He let the engine idle as he reached over from his seat and rifled through the glove compartment. He pulled his hand back, revealing to Mary a small blue make-up kit.

"Straight through the doors, passed the checkout, near the back to the left," he instructed. He straightened in his seat and reached his hand to his utility belt next, and pulled out the mace. He plopped the discreet can - shaped like a tube of lipstick - in her palms on top the kit. Replacing his hand to his slacks, he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and gave her that also. "Three waters."

He moved back in his seat then, out of her personal space and into his own, scanning the customers for tell tale signs of threats, thoughts churning.

Mary looked at him, taking everything into her hands and putting it into her bag. She undid her seatbelt, sparing a moment to look over at him before she got out of the car. She made her way as he had told her, straight through the doors, passed the checkout, near the back to the left. She came across the bathroom and made her way inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Does he really think I simply miss Francis? Why can't he see...?" She whispered, pulling out the make-up kit and fixing her mascara and foundation before replacing it into the bag. She checked herself over in the mirror before walking to the door and unlocking it.

Upon exiting the bathroom she went and gathered three waters, making her way to the checkout and paying for them. She pocketed his change, and the bag they gave her and made her way back to the car. Resolution stern upon her face as she moved to his side of the vehicle rather than her own, she stood there at his door and looked through the window at him. "Bash, join me outside please." She requested, her tone holding that edge of authority. She would prove to him that she meant her own words, that she wasn't just projecting as he thought.

She set the bag of waters down, as well as her own bag on the hood of the car as she waited for him. Her hands wringing together with her nerves at what she was about to do.

Recognizing the tone in her voice, Bash immediately undid his seatbelt and got the door. He hadn't seen any threats while she was paying for water, but he scanned her body alertedly, his eyes hard and face tense. Satisfied she was unharmed, he stood straighter and reguarded her. "Your Grace?"

She took a breath, albeit a rather shaky one, as she brought one hand up to rest on his cheek. This was bold, even for her, and yet here she was about to do what she had thought of doing for quite sometime. She let her thumb slide across his cheek before she leaned upwards, boldly bringing her lips to press against his lightly as she kissed him.


End file.
